11 Flowers
by CinnamonAndClove
Summary: Nagamori Masako is the Kuchiki Clan's last attempt for an heir considering her cousin, Kuchiki Byakuya's, utter lack of interest in the prospect. She's the perfect image of nobility...right? And just what's her relationship with the 11th division captain?


_People cannot be thought to define  
beauty, however Flowers can be thought  
to define beauty. A person's form  
resembles a flower, only at the time of  
defeat, when it is torn to pieces.  
_  
- Bleach Vol. 37 (Beauty is So Solitary)_  
_

_~:*:~  
_

**Prologue_  
_**

"Hey, Kuchiki Byakuya. This guy's done for, he's all yours!"

A stoic-faced figure, clipped with austere posture and sharp eyes, turned to face the broad man yelling to him. The latter was clothed only in a precariously hanging pair of hakama, the rest of his clothes having been ripped off and shredded in earlier battles that left only blood-stained remains on his burly chest and lower torso. This man, Zaraki Kenpachi, sucked his teeth and drew his katana back over his shoulder while Kuchiki Byakuya, who is of course the rather grave individual previously described, unsheathed his own sword.

"What exactly are you telling me to do?" he questioned sternly, taking a few steps towards his towering companion. The sand sloped downwards along his path, the surrounding desert of Las Noches never-ending in all directions, not a single thing standing save the towers and assorted structures of Aizen's residence.

Former residence.

And as you might imagine when in regards to desert foliage, there was little other than the high hills of sand and the surprisingly cool sun overhead. Oh, and the hulking giant otherwise known as Llargo Yammy, who lay in a bloody heap, seemingly unconscious not far from either of the men who continued to glare at one another.

"Are you an idiot?" Kenpachi barked, "I bet you were havin' fun sittin' on the sideline braiding your hair the whole time." He tapped the blade a few times, shaking his head with a jagged smirk on his face. "But now this wimp's pretty much done, so I'm tellin' ya to finish him off."

There remained a slight pause before his company replied, though, there still remained no great reaction to the obvious bait. "I see. You're telling me to clean up what you couldn't finish, is that it?" He closed his eyes, taking in a calm breath. "Do you know who you're speaking to?"

Obviously he didn't.

Or maybe, it was in spite of that he did.

Accounting to the nature of a Kenpachi, particularly this one, it was most likely the latter.

"Well finishin' off weaklings pisses me off, so just quit yer babblin' and do it already."

"No. Something like this is more suited to a lower class of person, such as yourself."

The Espada continued to lay motionless despite the sudden temperature drop, which was quite a peculiar occurrence, even in an odd desert like the one they currently resided. A certain scientist scoffed from a pillar not far away, impatiently folding his fingers and resting his chin on them.

Kenpachi's visible eye widened, though not in surprise. Rather, there was a tinge of madness in its depths, and a profuse torrent containing the desire to kill. "What was that!"

However, before anyone could utter even one more demeaning insult, a sudden increase in reiatsu bared down on them. The monster that had once been down for the count slammed a herculean fist into the sand where the pair stood, but not before they shunpoed just a few skips away.

"**Y-You little shits!**"

They both peered up at him with languid demeanors, moving only when he chased after them with consistent punches, resulting in explosions of sand being lifted into the air.

"Just finish him off, was it? Well said," Byakuya commented blandly with as much of a mocking tone as most Kuchiki's could produce. "That was absurd from the beginning and you should know that. As is your relationship with Masako."

They both evaded another barrage, Kenpachi sparing a lazy glance over his shoulder. "Mind yer own damn business, Kuchiki. And that much is just "finishin' him off to me, I guess it's just too much for you to handle." A hum resounded in the air, the static pressure increasing as a cero was charged and launched at them.

They dodged, of course, skimming just along the outlines of it.

"**Quit runnin' around, you shitheads!**" The Zero Espada swept an open palm in an attempt to knock them away from each , an attempt was all it was. They jumped high into the air, one landing on a massive arm and the other settling in the sand.

"It is my business, but I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand that," Byakuya said from his perch, disappearing as the other hand came down and then promptly became severed.

"**Ahhh! Fuck, you cut my arm! It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts!**" Yammy snarled and wailed, flailing around as gigantic globs of slick, hot blood poured down into the sand.

"Understand what? She's a grown ass woman, she can make her own damn decisions without a pesky squirt like you meddlin' in her affairs," he growled, not even bothering to dodge a rather weak attack. Instead, another chunk, this time from Yammy's leg, was hacked off and resulted in even louder wails full of absolute hatred. "So stay the fuck outta our business. Maybe if you weren't such a pansy you woulda finished this guy off."

If Byakuya had been any younger, he might have reacted differently. Instead, the signature rows of blades that accompanied his bankai began to form behind him as he replied, "Interesting...let's see about that after you're dead."

The eleventh division captain grinned wolfishly, brandishing his sword. "Bring it on! I've been wantin' to kick your ass for a long time now!"

Before that duel could ensue, however, they were both confronted with a supremely pissed off, supremely large Espada that demanded their immediate attention.

"Just hurry up and kill him already," the strangely exotic figure sighed. Mayuri Kurotsuchi cupped a hand to his chin and adjusted his sitting posture, crossing his legs. "At this rate, if he gets any bigger, the dissection afterwards is going to be a pain in the ass."

* * *

She was, perhaps, the most regal person Koizumi Keiko had ever laid her eyes on. She could just barely make out the delicate padding of footsteps following behind her own.

Nagamori Masako, the Kuchiki Clan's last hope for a new heir.

And, oh, was she beautiful. It took everything Keiko had not to turn her head and just stare. She had caught only but a glimpse of her when she first met Nagamori-dono and her entourage at the main entrance of the manor. Long, ebony hair fell past shoulders and waist, framing her fine featured, heart shaped face. Her skin appeared to glow with perfection, not a single blemish ruining her otherwise alabaster tone. She'd smiled down at Keiko with stormy gray eyes that were surprisingly warm despite their frigid hue.

She was a lady, no doubt about it. The ideal _rich _young lady. Stiff spine, hands daintily folded in front of her, gliding through the halls exuding an air of refined authority. She was so stunning that Keiko, usually one to notice a beautiful kimono before anything else, had no idea what Nagamori-dono's looked like. She could have kicked herself for not taking the time to notice.

Leading her through the halls, the best she could do to keep from looking back was to imagine what sort of beautiful kimono the woman behind her was sporting. She hid her curling lips as she wondered what kind of person the Kuchiki Clan's last hope was.

Nagamori Masako kept her eyes glued to the back of the slight young girl before her. Had her eyes deceived her?

No, of course not.

She had seen it clearly. Behind the mask of polite indifference, her brain analyzed the girl that guided her through nostalgic halls. She was petite and seemed to have an innocence Masako wasn't sure she'd ever had herself. It was a kind of beauty that most people overlooked, and it was distastefully downplayed by the simple and severe bun she had her hair pulled back in at the nape of her neck. And that wasn't even taking her drab kimono into account-if she was to be Masako's personal servant, she would have to do something about her wardrobe. Tradition stated that a servant's clothing must mirror the mistress's but that really had nothing to do with it. Every girl should feel pretty when she puts on something as nice as the silken garment she now wore, but the girl didn't look like she felt pretty...not at simple earthy colors and grey obi was just… unflattering. Especially if what she had noticed was indeed the truth.

It had happened as they entered the main house. The girl, Koizumi-san, had lead her through the front doors, past the guards that stood as sentries along its sides. And, for a moment, Masako noticed that the girl's shoulders stiffened as she sent a fluttering glance towards one of the guards. Masako was close enough to inspect him at her leisure, and she couldn't help but smirk under a small yawn. She thoroughly approved, at least, from what little she could tell. Short red hair, cropped close atop a strong-jawed and honest face. Good shoulders too. She could just imagine him throwing innocent Koizumi-san onto his shoulder and then…

Oh goodness, her thoughts had run away with themselves again. Masako flexed her fingers, resisting the urge to adjust a pair of glasses she wasn't wearing. Her eyes trailed back to the girl, not even trying to suppress a small, almost sad smile.

At least her new home would be entertaining.

No, she wasn't distraught that she had been forced to leave the home she had grown up in for the past 250 years, and, really, she had often visited the Kuchiki main house when she was younger. It was beautiful, sprawling across acres of pristine gardens and manicured paths. But... already she missed home. Nearly laughing at herself, she looked off to the side. She had barely been gone a day and here she was, feeling slight pangs of homesickness; though, it was most certainly not the home itself that she longed for.

Her mother and father, her brother Nakatsu, and her cousin Saya. They had all wished her well as she left and promised to visit, but she knew she wouldn't see them until after she had a chance to settle in and take over the duties as the mistress of a household.

A mistress was exactly what this house needed, she thought, once again taking in the state of Koizumi-san's clothing. She found the very thought of her stern-faced cousin or their grandfather ordering bolts of fabric positively hysterical. She couldn't imagine Rukia handling such things, especially considering how young as she was and how preoccupied she had to be with becoming a shinigami.

Lost in thought once more, she nearly missed the left turn Koizumi-san made. The girl stopped before a shoji screen door and slid it open, stepping to the side and bowing her head respectfully. Masako nodded in reply and swept past her, taking just a few steps into the suite that would now be her home. She took in the wide open room, tatami mats and shoji screens and, as if just for her, the open windows looking out onto the beautiful lake that lay placidly just beyond a garden.

_Well, isn't that wonderful? _she thought, making her way to the window, feeling the smooth fingers of a gentle breeze brush against her face. It ran through her hair, as if in a caress, before rolling along listlessly. Looking around the room again, she saw the bags and trunks that contained her personal effects. How they had managed to get them into the room before she even entered it was peculiar to say the least. But, she supposed, so close to the Seireitei, the household was probably home to many strange things and skills she, from her rural clan, was not used to.

"Do you require a servant to unpack for you, Oku-sama?" Koizumi asked, still hovering by the door.

"No, thank you. I would like to take care of it myself." The last thing she needed was the servants gossiping about the… rather unique collection she had scattered throughout her luggage.

Keiko fought desperately to keep from shielding her eyes from the overwhelming beauty shining from the lady before her. She wanted to unpack herself?

Oh!

That blinding smile!

Was she so determined to hide her sadness? Separated from her family, as it were. Keiko could just see the bitter aura lingering just at the corners of the lady's smile. If she wanted to unpack for herself (probably trying to make herself feel as at home as possible, the brave woman!) then Keiko would let her.

She was indeed a worthy lady to bear the son and future heir of the Kuchiki household!

"Hai, Nagamori-dono. Do you require anything else that I may provide?" Keiko murmured dutifully as she swept her eyes along the luxurious pink and purple kimono, scattered with small flitting birds and cherry blossoms nicely complemented by a light lilac obi.

Masako glanced out the window thoughtfully before turning back to Keiko and, bringing a finger to her lips, smiling.

"Some tea would be lovely."

Any minute now, Keiko expected a violent nosebleed. A woman! A Lady! A lady-woman who was in charge! It had been far too many years that the Kuchiki clan had been without a proper woman in charge of the household, and in that time, the daily life of the Kuchiki manor had begun to resemble the face of the man who ran it. Oh yes, it was beautiful… but incredibly strict and boring—_the manor of course!_ Keiko thought, shaking her head just enough to avoid bringing attention to her scattered thoughts. _Not the master's face._

"Hai, Nagamori-dono," she said as she exited the room. Pattering down the halls, she could not wait to get to the servant's quarters and spill all that she now knew to the girls waiting there. They had all been so envious when they heard _she_would be the one to escort the madam. Cutting through one of the courtyards, she slid one of the shoji screens that lead to the kitchen and immediately found hands gripping her sleeves and dragging her in.

"Keiko-chan!" squealed Saki-chan, her best friend and fellow maid, as she lugged Keiko into the kitchen and threw her down into a chair.

"Saki-cha—aaaah!" she cried, as a bright light was thrown into her face. Covering her eyes with her hands, she cursed and waited for her sight to get used to the brightness before looking around.

She was surrounded by half-illuminated silhouettes of her fellow servants, all doing their best to look very menacing. She could even see Cook-san with a leek sticking out of her apron.

"Confess!" cried Saki.

"To what!"

"Oh, enough of this!" cried a voice she recognized as Nodame-san, Cook-san's assistant, "We can ask this without making the girl's eyes water!"

And then the light was gone and someone opened a window, once again causing Keiko to shield her eyes against the rapid change of lighting.

"What's she like?" Saki all but screamed, gripping a broom between her hands like a sword, "Talk or you die!"

Murmurs of equal curiosity and impatience coursed through the group, but Keiko stayed silent, grinning mischievously at them before melting into a dramatic sigh.

"She is…" she started, her hands suddenly on either side of her face, "like an angel!"

There was silence as the group stared at her with blank faces.

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?" cried out Nodame-san, breaking the ranks while rubbing her temples.

And then the questions started.

"Does she have good posture?" questioned Cook-san.

"Yes," answered Keiko.

"How are her manners?" came sensible Nodame-san.

"Perfect."

"Does "angel" mean she is beautiful?" asked young Chiyo.

"Beyond beautiful."

"Hair color?"

"Like the master's."

"Eye color?"

"I don't know I barely had a chance to—"

"Age?"

"I'm not sure. She looks about—"

They began throwing questions at her so quickly that many went unanswered and she stumbled trying to formulate responses.

"Good birthing hips?"

"How do you tell—?" Keiko muttered questioningly.

"Blood type?"

"Wha?" she stuttered.

"Zodiac?"

"Does she have a subscription to the Shinigami Women's Society Newsletter?"

"Where does she import her underwear from?"

"Do you think she wears underwear?"

"Does she have more than one facial expression?"

"Is she going to increase our wages?" Saki-chan cried, drowning out the other questions. Keiko leapt off the chair and threw her hands into the air.

"How am I supposed to know that? How am I supposed to know any of that!" She paused and took a few calming breaths, placing her hands on her hips and shooting the group a stern glare, daring any of them to ask another ridiculous question.

"So..._does _she have more than one facial expression?" Yuki, the rather willowy laundry maid, repeated.

"Oh, well...yes." Keiko let her hands slide away from her hips. "She does, actually."

"Really?" the group cried.

"Well, I haven't seen much but she has a thoughtful expression… and a melancholy expression… and a warm expression!" Keiko concluded, satisfied with her answer.

"She sounds boring," croaked Saki-chan before she was quickly smacked into silence by a leek.

"She sounds like a proper lady," said Cook-san, wielding her leek like a proper weapon.

"Which is what this house needs. A noble lady's touch. None of this Shinigami Women's Society nonsense!"

Everyone murmured in agreement (more so out of fear than actual accession) when Keiko clapped her hands together.

"Tea!"

"Tea?" asked Saki-chan.

"Yes! Nagamori-dono wants tea," she said staring at the group expecting immediate action, but instead found them still and motionless. They all eyed each other suspiciously, watching for the slightest movement, all waiting for—

"I'll bring it to her," came a sweet voice from the back of the kitchen. Akemi-san walked forward, docile and beautiful, holding her head high.

Everyone nodded in acceptance except for Saki-chan who whined, "Doushite?"

"No, Akemi-san should go. She makes the best tea," Keiko reasoned, smacking Saki's arm as she crossed them with an irritated scowl.

Akemi bowed her head and disappeared back into the shadows of the kitchen. The group stared silently at where she'd been standing. She was, come to think of it, almost like the ideal lady.. Polite, silent, and, had she the proper clothing, she would be quite regal.

She never gossiped with the rest of the servants and—

"Come on!" cried Saki, "I'm not the only one who thinks that there is something mysterious about that girl!"

The group erupted into loud chatter.

"I don't believe the tea farm story for a minute!" someone cried.

"I stand by my theory. The girl is the bastard daughter of a noble house," Cook-san said, grimly.

"I still think she was a Geisha that ran away when she fell in love!" cried Yuki-san.

Arguments ensued and Keiko watched Nodame-san huff and puff as she attempted chopping up a group of leeks while dodging waving appendages. Since the group was occupied, she slipped out and slinked across the courtyard. She didn't have very long before one of them would call upon her to confirm an opinion-based fact. Once they realized she was gone, they'd try dragging her back in, so it was best to get away as quickly as possible.

Above her something flew, casting a darting shadow down onto her just as a few more followed. She lifted her face to the sky and caught a flash of purple fabric disappearing over the roof of the east wing manor. The Kuchiki hidden guards. Keiko had only seen them once before in the entire ten years she had worked at the manor. A secret smile bloomed on her face as she thought about a particular formal guard who stood at the manor's entrance. She giggled softly, covering her mouth with quick hands.

_Meanwhile, at a window looking out onto the lake..._

Masako tried to drag her eyes away from the view outside her window. It was mesmerizing. The tasteful pattern of grown trees and shrubbery, pruned to looked wild but contained. Flower bushes bursting with color and vibrancy at the banks of the placid lake. Through the shimmering surface, she could just make out the huge glittering bodies of the Kuchiki clan's prized koi.

And the weather was brilliant. The cool kisses of autumn fading into a crisp winter gave the air outside an almost glass-like feeling. What a beautiful month, November. She smiled and lifted herself up gracefully off the floor and turned to her things. Deep within her trunk was her prized calendar. A gift from her cousin, Sayuri. November. _Hmm_, she thought, _who was the poster boy for November?_

Suddenly her mind's eye was filled with the picture of a wolfish smile, scars upon scars lacing over skin, and an unrefined stance. Masako shuddered violently and shook her head. The barbarian! The brute! The one flaw in her precious calendar...was it really that month already? Well, that settled it then. She'd just have to keep it hidden until December. She was not putting up that monstrosity in her new home. With a nod, she turned and began unpacking. It was an all around better plan. This way, she could give the servants a chance to get used to her, _ahem,_more eccentric traits.

Her hands ran over the soft silks of her clothing and she sighed. She didn't obsess over fabric, persay. It was not the thought of wearing beautiful things that made her love the silken garment. It was the artistry behind the creation of every kimono she owned and wore that sent her heart all a flutter. Someone, a master, had taken the utmost care making this from raw materials. It was like magic. She pulled out a sky-blue dress, adorned with sakura blossoms, and shook it out before refolding it and placing it in the closet to the left of the door. As she continued laying things out (more artistically than in any organized manner) she noticed something on the side of her closet. One section of wood was slightly discol—

"Nagamori-dono?" a soft, unfamiliar voice called from the other side of her door.

"Hai?" she called, closing the closet.

"I have brought your tea," the voice answered.

Oh. Tea. Right, then. Masako shook her head. She'd completely forgotten.

"Yes, come in."

The door opened and a slight young woman entered the room, her head bowed respectfully, holding a tray with a beautiful porcelain cup and a soft green kettle. Masako gestured with her hand to the quaint table that stood before the window, surrounded on two sides with soft purple cushions.

The servant knelt down before the table (without a single tinkling of shaking china) and quietly placed the cup and kettle on the table. Masako smiled and, before the servant girl could, poured herself a cup. Inhaling the bitter aroma, she took a small sip and closed her eyes in delight. She was quite the tea enthusiast.

"Wonderful!" she chirped before looking to the girl, "Arigatou…?" she trailed off realizing she didn't know her name.

"Takada Akemi," she replied as she rose from the floor.

"What a lovely name. Thank you, Takada-sa—" Masako felt her eyes widen slightly and had the sudden urge to spray her tea all over the room in shock.

It was a bump...!

Her heart fluttered delightfully in her chest as Takada-san's stomach passed her line of sight. The girl was slim and her obi was tied tightly and yet… Masako saw it! The slightest swell of a belly promising life to the world. Well then, Takada had to be her name after marriage, right? What a young little flower to be so bound. It must have been a lovely romance. A young hard working farm boy who fell for the delicate girl down the street. He wooed her through sweet gifts and—

"Nagamori-dono?"

Masako, shaken from her reverie, turned to the girl and smiled apologetically. "Sumimasen, Takada-san. I'm afraid I'm quite tired and my thoughts wonder. Thank you for the tea. It was wonderful. If you could extend the complement to the person who made it, I would be pleased." Expecting the girl to go, she took another delightful sip and began to pick up where she left off.

—heartfelt declarations of love! Promises of a happy but hard life of middle clas—

"I made it," Takada-san said softly, smiling and bowing her head, "Thank you for your kind words, dono."

Once again, taken away from her day dreams, Masako turned to the girl but this time, much more thrilled to be interrupted.

"Did you?" she said, her eyebrows rising ever so slightly in a feminine display of surprise. That would be nice. Great tea like this every day _and _the opportunity to see Takada-san as her pregnancy progressed! If that was the case, maybe she'd have the opportunity to weasel out the details of her love story. Unless of course… well… there was always the chance that Takada was her maiden name. Perhaps she had loved and then been left, pregnant and alone in the world. Masako's face darkened and the grip on her cup tightened.

"Yes, my family were tea farmers and my mother was quite gifted," she murmured, a sweet smile playing on her lips.

"Are these leaves from your family's farm then?" Masako asked.

"Yes. Kuchiki-sama enjoys them and was kind enough to help support my family. We are very honored." With a bow, she stood up and grabbed the tray. "Do you require anything else, Nagamori-dono?"

Masako shook her head and motioned with her hand to the door, giving Takada-san permission to leave while her mind raced. Immediately she slid onto her feet and glided to her closet, throwing the doors opening and, crouching down, she pushed against the spot of wood that she'd found to be discolored. A click brought a cat-like grin to her features.

"Knew it," she whispered as the outline of a secret passage became clear against the wall. She slid it opened and, in a very unrefined position, hiked up her skirts and crawled through. On the other side was a long, narrow corridor in which she could stand. The walls were bare, but as she walked, every once in awhile she could see the outline of another hidden door. She started keeping tabs as she passed them.

"One…Two…" Masako sang softly under her breath until she turned a sharp corner and clapped her hands together, seeing a door slightly larger than the one in her closet. She, as best she could in the confined space, bent down and slid it open before creeping through. She ended up in a dark, cramped space that smelled like a combination of musty paper and acrid ink. Sticking her arms out as much as she could, she felt stiff wood and pushed hard. It opened up, flooding the space with light as she stepped out of Byakuya Kuchiki's paper cabinet. Masako politely dusted herself off as she looked up and met the eyes of her slightly bemused cousin. He regarded her for but a moment before turning back to his papers.

"It is a wonder you still remember those passages," he said from behind his desk, shuffling reports into a neat pile. "But tell me, does memory serve as a good enough excuse for a lady to crawl through dust and cobwebs?"

"Dear cousin, you put me in a room with the easiest accessible entrance." She smiled. "Was that not your intention? As I've heard, you don't normally do your office work this late in the evening. Though, perhaps I am mistaken."

He tilted his head towards her and looked as pleased as he could with her reply. She returned the gesture, the edge of her lips twitching. And then the moment ended and he went back to looking at his papers.

"How are you settling?"

"Well enough. You have a different staff from that last time I was here," she commented, walking towards the window and staring out.

"That was nearly a hundred years ago," he said, without looking up at her. "They'd been part of the Kuchiki household for 400 years, it was time they retired. Sato-san remains in touch."

She placed a palm against the glass, remembering the old maid whom she had loved as a child. "How is she?"

"I made her living arrangements along the ocean, her needs are well attended to. You should consider inviting her to the wedding." He dipped his brush into the ink stone and began writing gracefully across the paper he had before him, not noticing Masako's attention turn to him.

"My first day and you are speaking of my wedding?" she mused, "I don't recall meeting anyone just yet."

"You need not concern yourself with such things," he said, dryly. "The Elders have a long list of prospective suitors for you."

After walking towards him, she sat delicately at the edge of the chair in front of his desk. "Wonderful," she said, matching his tone. Suddenly, her eyes widened and she clapped her hands together.

"What is the name of the family who runs the farm where you get your tea leaves?" she asked eagerly.

"The Sasaki family," he answered, moving a stack of papers into one of the drawers of his desk. "What do you want with them?"

She shook her head, internally heaving a sigh of relief. Takada wasn't her maiden name! The instant improvement of her mood was uplifting. She turned back to the window.

For a moment they sat in silence, before Byakuya placed the paper he had just signed atop a pile to his left. He looked up at her and one thin eyebrow rose up.

"No glasses," he noted.

She chuckled. "Hahaoya said it would be unsightly to come to the Kuchiki household at this age with glasses I don't need. She got rid of them all."

He continued with the documents, and Masako briefly wondered if he held all his conversations this way.

"If you were so inclined, a member of my division owns a eye-wear store," he murmured offhandedly.

A silly grin tore at her lips as she folded her fingers beneath her chin.

"Aren't you accommodating," she mused.

"You are relieving me of the most troublesome of my duties."

Masako shook her head, her insides jostled by an internal laugh. Only Byakuya would view having a child as a troublesome duty. Of course, it was a warranted feeling. Without love, what else could it be? She had missed his wedding to Hisana due to her mother's opposition to the marriage; despite this, she had supported her cousin in his decision. Though she could not blame him for his sadness, she thought it was _damn _well time for him to find someone new.

Before she could say anything, he opened a drawer and began shuffling through it.

"Your name-changing ceremony will be in later in the week. I wanted it to be sooner but _this _came up," he said handing her a bright pink envelope decorated in lollipops and cartoony katana stickers. Turning it over in her hand, she wondered who in the world had the cheek to send her cousin something so flamboyant. It had already been opened, so it was rather easy to pull out the equally as pink piece of paper. She was surprised as little pieces of confetti fell from the envelop.

Raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow at her cousin, who looked at her without any form of amusement, she unfolded it began to read the very bubbly writing…

_You're Invited!_

_Hello Mina!_  
_You have been invited to the super-duper fun surprise party for Ken-chan's birthday! Bring lots and lots of candy and be ready to eat lots of cake! Don't tell anyone!_  
_~Yachiru!_

Beneath the initial message was a neater message scribbled in smooth script:

_What my vice-captain has forgotten to mention:_  
_The Party will be held at 6pm at the Squad 11 barracks on November 19th. Try your best to look beautiful!_  
_Yumichika_

Beneath that she found another message:

_BYOB_  
_-Ikkaku_

Bewildered, Masako looked up at her cousin and shook her head with an inquisitive eye.

"This isn't what I think it is..." she trailed off, not deeming it worthy enough to be a question.

"It is. The captain of the 11th squad is turning three hundred, and the majority of the Gotei 13 have had the misfortune of being invited. Most will attend, for those who have already attempted to decline the invitation have been harassed by Kusajishi-fukutaicho. Even the Sotaicho has agreed to go," he explained, holding a hand out for the envelope.

"Oh, I see. So that is why _you_ must go. But why, dear cousin, do _I _have to?" Masako smiled sweetly at Byakuya as her eyes spat lasers at him.

A chill ran down her spine as a ghost of a smirk graced her cousin's lips. No, not a smirk, because Byakuya simply didn't smile in any way. Though, Masako was certain, the expression that he solely could accomplish, such as at this very moment, was much more...sinister. "If I must endure it, why not you?"

She looked around for the nearest object that she could throw at the man, and in the midst of her searching, Byakuya looked back down at his work. "It was not my decision. The Elders insisted you go. A number of your suitors are amongst the Gotei 13 and they thought it a mercy to give you the opportunity to meet them outside of a miai."

The comment seemed to quell her annoyance and she smiled politely.

"I take it you still bare the man a grudge?" he asked, referring to the birthday boy, er, man. She delicately pushed back a lock of her full bangs and stared at him with a blank face. "Hn, even after all these years."

Masako, had she been a less refined lady, would have snorted. "_You _dislike him."

With a swift deliberate motion, Byakuya set down the brush and stared at her. "I must work with him regularly. You do not have such a dilemma."

Before a word could leave her mouth, the door burst open. A flustered servant girl with shockingly bright auburn hair entered the room.

"Tono! Please forgive this humble servant for interrupting, but Masako-dono has gone missing! I went to her room to give her a—"

Masako turned around in her chair and smiled pleasantly at the girl.

"Oh!" was all that escaped the shocked creature's mouth. She blinked a few times, as if trying to comprehend what she was seeing, before bowing quickly and running out the room. As she closed the door they heard, "Mina! I found her!" before the voice faded down the hallway.

"Not even a day and I am giving the servants problems," she sighed and cupped a cheek. "In that case, I think it best I retire for the night."

"Hn." Byakuya rose and walked around the desk to escort her to the door. "Tomorrow will be an early morning. You must meet the Elders."

She bowed her head as he opened the door and walked out looking back over her shoulder, "So the excitement begins."

"Indeed it does. Goodnight, Masako."

"Goodnight, Byakuya."

She glided down the hall with a pleased smile. It had been years since she had seen her cousin. They had been quite close when they were young, mostly due to the fact that they understood each other's oddities to bearable degrees. She used to come every ten years or so until she was required to spend more time with her father's extended family. It had been a sour turn of events, but they had managed to keep in touch through letters. She snickered at the thought of how temperamental the young Byakuya had once been. Of course she had changed as well, and yet they managed to still be comfortable with each other. It was rather curious, she thought.

Yes, all seemed well in the world and she momentarily let her thoughts wander down the path of fantasies she had been weaving earlier before she had been interrupted by the unpleasant thought of poor Takada-san being an abandoned by some ruffian. She let her fantasies carry her down the halls until she came to the abrupt realization she had (somehow) gotten turned around. Peering down a corridor, she found that they all looked...sorta the same. Searching through her memories, she had a basic layout of the large mansion but was not sure exactly where she was at the moment. It would have made much more sense to just ask one of the servants for help, if only she could find someone.

Sighing, she continued taking light steps through the halls and turning every once in awhile in an attempt to find someplace she recognized. She found herself, rather suddenly, outside. Looking around, she took in the view. It was the rock garden. Carefully tended sand and rocks with a small stone path leading to a center sitting area with ten sakura trees in full bloom. They lay in a semicircle around three wooden benches, elegantly carved and sanded. Dusk was settling on the treeline, lending its dying light to the white rocks creating a world of warm pink. It was all so beautiful that Masako decided on walking across the stone path that lead through the waving sands to one of the wooden benches located inside the trees. She situated herself on the edge of one and inhaled the rich aroma of the sakura blooms, smiling at a sudden wave of nostalgia.

Yes, it was this very spot where, a hundred years ago, she had said goodbye to the Kuchiki household. At the time, she thought she would be returning. It wasn't until she arrived home that she was informed that she would not be visiting for quite some time. And even then, she would never have imagined that a hundred years would pass before she would see it again. Situations on both sides had kept her from visiting the manor.

A hundred years. She had been so young then, barely out of her adolescence. Young and happy. It was easy to be happy when one was young, she mused. So innocent, naïve, protected—

No…

That day, one hundred years ago, she hadn't felt protected. It was around that time that she had been violently ripped out of her naïve girlhood and thrown into the harsh realities of the world.

Yes, that was how it happened. She had sat on this very bench thinking of that very violent happening when Ginko-san came to say goodbye.

Ginko-san.

Now there was another servant she was sorry that Byakuya had retired. What an ornery old man. Cranky, sure, but kind. He chased Byakuya and Masako across the grounds when they were young and had punished them when they took up wrestling in the flowers. Even now, at the age of 250, looking out at the manor from her seat amongst the sakura trees, she could see his wizened old face, unsmiling but soft along the edges, coming towards her at a slow, hobbling pace.

She could even recall the exact kimono he wore and the white sash around his—

Wait.

Ginko-san never wore a white sash around his waist. Where had she thought that up? She closed her eyes on the image, wracking her brain and opened them suddenly finding it—him standing before her.

Looking down at her, a slight smile played on his lips as he bowed his head to her.

"Welcome back, Young Mistress."

Masako blinked as a wide smile bloomed on her features.

"It is good to be back, Ginko-san."

"You look well, Young Mistress," he said through the crackle of old age.

"As do you. You are a welcoming face amongst all these new ones, if not one that has not changed at all in so many years."

"The same cannot be said for you, dono. You have indeed grown into a beautiful lady."  
She motioned for him to sit next to her and was surprised to find that he was much shorter than her. Had it really been so long ago when he had towered over her?

"It seems I have grown… if not beautiful, then at least taller."

"You look like your mother," he replied sagely, bringing his cane before him and resting his hands on it. "Though you are missing the hardness that she had. The hardness that most Kuchiki women have. It must be your father's house. The Nagamori's are known for their kindness and good business sense."

"Hahaoya always tells me I had it much easier than she did," she laughed as a gust of wind rustled through the tree branches above, scattering a cloud of petals around them. "The Kuchiki's must be known for their gardens," she mused, "Ours are mediocre in comparison."

Ginko-san let out a hearty chuckle that reminded her of days long past. "On a superficial level, yes, they are. Their garden and their glorious koi."

"I can see them from my room, you know."

The old man rose from his seat and turned to Masako. "Come, Young Mistress. I will escort you to your room."

The wind seemed to pull at her, as if asking her not to go, but she stood and, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, nodded to Ginko-san. Quietly the duo meandered across the ground, taking a longer route than necessary and giving Masako the chance to take in more of the beautiful gardens in the dying, dusky light. She had the suspicion that it was the old man's way of making her feel welcome, but did not say anything.

As he opened a door and lead her inside to the hallway she recognized as her own, she turned to him.

"Arigatou, Ginko-san. Will I see you in the morning?"

The old man shook his head and smiled wryly. "No, Young Mistress. You will have many maids fawning over you and I take no interest in the events you will be attending."

She nodded and opened the door to her room but, before stepping inside, a thought struck her.

"Ginko-san!" she said, turning to look at the man as he hobbled down the hall. He paused and looked back at her.

"Yes, dono?"

"Byakuya told me he had released all the former servants. Why are you not on the beach somewhere?"

The old man's face split into a smirk before he said "Young Mistress, there must always be a Ginko serving the Kuchiki's."

And with that he turned and continued on his way. She raised a brow and entered her room, finding that the rest of her luggage had been unpacked and groaning when she saw a neat pile of her Shinigami Women's Association collectables, including that blasted calendar!

Grabbing the pile. she crammed the posters and booklets into her closet but stopped when she saw her limited edition Gotei 13's Hunkiest Men of the Year Calendar and snatched it up, flipping past a barrage of wonderfully sculpted men until she got to November. Zaraki Kenpachi… she stared at the picture and tried her best to make it melt with the power of her mind; though, nothing happened. Not only was he the calendar boy for November, but she was going to be subjected to a party on his behalf. Irritated, she turned the page and found a beautifully taken picture of her cousin amongst a group of winter bare trees. Snow was on the ground and he was wrapped warmly in a winter haori. His face was stern but it was a pleasant picture none the less. That would do nicely. Scratching around, she found a tack for the wall and hung it up.

"Nagamori-dono?" called a familiar voice.

"Hai," she answered.

The shoji door was pushed open and Koizumi-san bowed her head. "Do you require anything before bed, dono? A bath?"

She smiled at the thought of a bath. She _had _spent the past few days traveling, and she'd spent part of today between the Kuchiki walls."A bath would be lovely."

Koizumi-san bowed her head and turned, leading Masako down the halls to the bathhouse that was connected to the manor. Brought inside to a private room, she saw a deep sunken stone tub filled with steaming water smelling of white tea and chamomile. Koizumi-san and the servant who had interrupted Masako and Byakuya in his office, helped her get undressed, leaving a thin white kimono for her as they left.

Stepping into the tub, she felt the warmth radiate from her feat. She sighed as she lowered herself beneath the water. Once the water was up to her shoulders, she plunged under the surface, letting the hot water warm her cheeks before emerging, her hair webbing around her. Her new life here would start the next morning when she woke. The formalities and meetings would begin and her search for a husband would commence. In that respect, it wasn't really that different from her old life. It was just the place and the people that had changed. Rosy-cheeked from the heat, she plunged underneath the surface again. She opened her eyes and welcomed the rather sharp sting of the bath oils.

Coming back up, she took a deep breath as she thought about how much she swam as a child. She had loved it. A fish in the water, so to speak. She rolled her eyes and covered a soft chuckle at the memory just as a strong wind blew inside from the night air, causing the thin curtain of the bathhouse to flap. It gave her a momentary glance out at the still lake. Yes, she had loved swimming in the lake when she spent time here. In fact... she hadn't been swimming ever since she left.

Well that would have to change. Now that she had returned, perhaps she could reclaim a bit of the things she had once loved. And why not? The chuckle dwindled into something softer.

"Tadaima."

* * *

**Authors Note:**

Both Clove and I hope you enjoyed our first chapter together! Though she couldn't make it here at the same exact time (mostly due to the fact two people can't be signed on at once, and also that she's in a completely different state), she's with us here in, what, spirit? Essence? Yeah, essence. There's definitely an essence of Clove here (ba-dum-cha). Ignoring my lame sense of humor, we figured we'd put in the following alternate ending to this chapter. Think of it as what happens when two girls find themselves enjoying the real-time typing of Google Doc's.

Reviews are appreciated~

**Masako, nearly choking on the soapy water, gasped. For before her floated an American nudist by the name of [Insert Author A's Name Here], who winked at her suggestively before transforming into a cuttlefish and swimming down the drain. **

**Masako surfaced, her eyes stinging from her extended observations underwater. Staring hesitantly at the other end of the tub, she moved to inspect the water only to be interrupted by a giant jellyfish, its tentacle massaging her hand while it waggled its eyebrows. **

**She readied herself to smack it across the face for such a gesture before something occurred to her.**

**Jellyfish didn't have eyebrows...**

**Masako awoke from her dream, jerking upright against the smooth surface of the tub. What exactly did those servants put in her tea...?**

**WATCH OUT MASAKO, IT'S ROOFIES! **

**Or is it...?**

**DUM DUM DUUUUH**

**WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT ON...**

**ELEVEN FLOWERS?**

MEANWHILE

IN A BATHHOUSE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF SOUL SOCIETY

AN AT-EASE KENPACHI ZARAKI ENJOYS A GOOD SOAKING WHEN SUDDENLY! A NUDE AND TITILLATED [Insert Author B's Name Here] APPEARS!

**It's a wild [Author B], Kenpachi! Quick, catch her! Don't you wanna be a Pokemon master!**

I DON'T NEED TO BE A POKEMON MASTER BECAUSE...

THE FORCE IS STRONG IN ME.  
*JEDI MIND TRICKS THE WILD [Insert Author B] OUT OF THE BATH*

*[Author B] flops around wildly*

**(Oh, screw the Author A/B crap) Cinnamon is here to save you Clove! *Cinnamon swings in from a chandelier (Whoa, I actually spelt that right) and brandishes her battle axe***

Clove cheers for Cinnamon and waves a well made handkerchief and swoons.

Kenpachi is puzzled.

**More accurately (according to Pokemon terms), Kenpachi is confused.**

**And Cinnamon swoops Clove up, and then run off into the sunset on an egret.**

**THE END**

**….or is it?**

**DUM DUM DUUUUH**

Meanwhile, in a far away land, a 19 year old girl pees her pants and chokes on her own spit.

**How eloquent.**

**But another girl, only 18, can't say much, because she too is choking on her own spit...especially after that Star Wars reference. But now she has to go take a shower...**

As it would happen, Clove does not need to shower but has a Fairy Tale she has to write. It is her midterm for her German Fairy Tales class.

**THAT IS AN AWESOME MIDTERM. I need to get me some of them.**

The sad thing is it would be awesome except after I write it, I have to do an analysis of it using other people's theories. Including some freudian dude.

**...and it just got less awesome, and more academic-like.**

**Still sorta awesome though. I wanna read it when yer done~**

I've decided to just write it on here so you can read it. Hahahaha. I'm so lame.

**...I can't believe we're chatting on a Google Doc.**

Me too. It is insane. Especially since it has a chat area... but real time typing is so much cooler. You don't have to wait! toohoo!

**This is true. Okay, I'll let you go. My roommate is glaring at me. She acts like my mother, ushering me into a bath. I think she just wants me naked...but she adamantly denies that.**

HAHAHAHAHA. OMG That is so great!

**I vote for uploading part of this conversation at the bottom in our Author's Note.**

I agree. We should do it every chapter. JSldkfsjlfajsdkfsdlk *laughs*  
**bewiurfhuwei;- Im going. Bye bye~ Seee yooouuuu**

**And that, ladies and less frequented gentlemen, concludes our obnoxious Authors Note.  
**


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